Resident Evil: Asylum Theory
by Aero19
Summary: Matthew Everett, a 15 year old boy, teams up with three other survivors and tries to come up with a way to survive the Raccoon City incident.
1. Awakening

Matthew Everett snapped awake.

He rolled over onto his side, and checked the time. Dimly glowing red numbers told him that it was 3:05 in the morning. _An atrocious time, _he thought. Matt flopped back against the pillows.

Seconds later, a growl perked up his senses. Sitting up, he listened carefully. Silence. He lay down again.

Something solid rammed into his bedroom door. A spasm of fear jerked Matt's body. Barely containing a shriek, he rolled to his right and fell on the floor. Grabbing the multitool by his bed, he ran next to the door and flipped through various tools. Screwdriver, bottle opener, screwdriver again, pliers-come on Matt come on Matt come on Matt-the first screwdriver again, scissors-BAM at the door again-back, to the bottle opener again, knife. Oh, glorious knife.

The hinges busted with a last bash. Matt blindly stabbed the knife and hoped he hit the assailant. He punctured air.

Something hissed from below him. Matt emitted a high-pitched eep-ish noise. Another hiss. Blindly, Matt took a step and leaped into the pitch-black hallway.

The thing seemed to have had the same idea too. Something had jumped-or pounced-, but Matt must have leaped over it.

Matthew landed, and quickly looked behind him. Moonlight shone on a patch of his carpet. The thing had landed in it, giving him a clear view.

It was his cat, Homer.

Homer turned around.

A chunk of his torso was flopping out on the poor cat's right side. Black fur was missing in various places, and Matt could only see one eye.

Another hiss.

Tears beginning to swell up in his eyes, Matt dove into his mother's room, adjacent to his. Slamming the door with his foot, he heard his cat ram into his mother's door too. He lay on the carpet for a moment, trying to figure out what turned out to be the most popular question in Raccoon City that night.

He uttered six words- what the fuck is going on?

Getting to his feet, he flipped the light switch. What a bad move that was.

Mathew saw the most hideous sight of his life.

His mother, in a tank top and shorts, was hunched over what must have been his other cat, Sadie. Blood ran down her face as she tore off chunks of cat flesh.

Matt blew chunks.

At this, his mother looked at him. Mouth dripping with blood and catgut, her eyes barely seemed to notice him.

She made a noise somewhere between a sigh, a moan, and a throaty growl.

Poetically, a single tear dripped down Matt's right eye.

Mother turned towards son, and shuffled closer.

_No. _he thought, not realizing he had spoken the same word too.

Matt jumped onto the bed, put one foot on the dresser by the window, crouched, and dived headfirst through the cheap glass.

He was out of the apartment.

Directly into what he would soon be calling Hell.


	2. Into Hell

The shards of glass from the window had scratched Matt in various places, and a chunk was stuck in his stomach. Not bothering to pull it out, he ran away from the window. His bare went over cool grass, then reached rough pavement.

Matt turned around, and looked back at the window with tear-streaked eyes.

His mother was at the window, bloody hands grasping wildly at the broken pieces of glass still in the window frame. She raised her arms, trying to push herself out the window that her shoulders could barely reach. Seemingly giving up, her arms fell onto the lower frame. Her right wrist hit a sharp shard, and the glass went all the way through. Barely seeming to notice, she turned around. The glass broke off, with the shard still embedded in her wrist.

Matt couldn't take any more of this sight. Tears flowing freely now, he turned his back to the apartment and ran, with no direction in mind.

Rocks dug into his soles as he ran through the residential area next to his apartment. Ignoring the pain, he tried to convince himself that he was still dreaming. Maybe he had never really awakened at 3:05 AM, and was curled up inside half a dozen blankets, even though it was the middle of summer.

For a second, his mind allowed him to believe this. But this was a luxury that he couldn't currently afford. Wandering around believing that he was dreaming wouldn't help him one bit.

So he stopped, and found himself in the middle of Oliver Street. One of the busier roads.

But there were no cars.

Granted, it WAS three in the morning. But this road always had a car or two on it, day or night.

Dismissing this as a road being closed for repairs, he finally got down to thinking about what to do.

He weighed his options: finding medical help, and return to his mother, or roll into a ball and huddle there in the middle of the street at night in his boxers.

Fetching help had a happier ending in his scenario. Besides, the hospital wasn't too far off. He could just run there, and get them to send an ambulance to his home, pronto.

And possibly one of those wagons that acted as buses to a lunatic asylum.

Wiping the last of the tears away, Matt jogged down the street, hoping that he got to the hospital in time.


	3. Corpse Phone

After about thirty seconds, it became evident that the street was most certainly _not _under repairs. In fact, the city must have hired a crew to repave it recently, as it was smoother than the last street Matt had been on.

He continued to run down the street, hoping to get to Main soon. As much as Matt hated to admit it, the lack of streetlights was creeping him out.

Thinking that, he realized that he was right. All the streetlights on Oliver were burnt out or something.

Lost in thought, Matt ran straight into a car parked in the middle of the road. Well, in his defense, the car wouldn't be easily spotted, even if Matt was focussed. The black car blended into the darkness of the street. Since they were having a new moon, no light shone from the heavens. There must have been light elsewhere, because the stars weren't visible.

Finding a door, Matt tried to look into the window. Due to extreme lack of light, he saw a whole lot of nothing. He pulled the handle. To his surprise, it opened easily.

The whole car lit up when the door opened. Matt had apparently opened the passenger door, because less than four feet in front of him sat a corpse, hunched over the wheel.

If Matt hadn't thrown up in the apartment, he would have done so now.

About to tear himself away, Matt saw a cell phone attached to the dead man's belt. It looked as if this guy had died coming to or from work.

Once more, he weighed his options. Continue on to the hospital, not knowing exactly how far it was, or take the cell from the dead guy's belt and phone 911.

His mother needed help. This was the fastest way.

Matt inches his hand towards the dead guy. Slowly, he tried to work up the will to do this.

Then, he thought, _Fuck the drama. Just do this._

Matt quickly reached into the car and pulled the cell phone off of the man's belt. Backing up three steps, he sighed with relief. He turned around, so the light from the car lit up the phone. Quickly, he pressed 9. Then a 1. And lastly, a 1.

The display read cheerfully, 'Searching for Signal…please wait!'

"No." Matt muttered. "No, you work, you fucking phone, you work-"

The phone displayed a 'Signal Lost… sorry!' message. Matt threw the phone back at the dead guy.

Biting back tears as he slammed the door to the car, Matt tried to see if he could find Main yet.

Nope.

Resigned to a long, breathless run, Matt sprinted away from the car into the black night.

Behind him, in the dark car, the man whose cellular Matt liberated opened his milky white eyes. His far hand rose, and chunks of scarred flesh dangled down where there had been bite marks. He growled painfully, yes. But most of all, he was hungry.

Matt was now too far away to hear this.


	4. Enter the Hive

Ahead of him in the jet black night, Matt saw a small ball of orange light appear. Raising his pace, he tried to make out what it was.

As he got closer, he saw it moving. Or, more accurately, flickering. Like fire.

Matt finally got close enough to tell what it was. He was right, the light was fire.

But, he didn't expect it to be burning several people slowly limping around the intersection.

Well, hey. At least he had found Main Street.

One of the people turned towards Matt. Which he didn't really enjoy much, as Matt had felt nauseous enough today.

The man had scratches running all over his face, and over one eye. These scratches were now blistered and black, most likely because the man's shirt was on fire. His eyes were clouded. He moaned loudly, and turned towards Matt, who was frozen in fear.

The rest of the people noticed Matt, and shuffled towards him. All of them had injuries like the first, but some were scarred worse than others.

Matt shivered. The people shuffled closer.

As he did back in the apartment, Matt said, "No." and looked for a way to go around them. The fear in him was replaced by a sort of adrenaline, and he quickly ran to the left. The burning people turned in his direction, but they were much too slow.

The whole street was illuminated with various burning objects, mostly cars. Risking a look behind him, Matt saw the people still trying to get to him, and realizing that they were just like his mother- looking dead and still moving.

Matt bit back the tears this time, and kept moving. Illuminated by fire, he could make out the Umbrella Company insignia above the hospital doors. He sprinted away from the burning men, and swerved around wrecked cars, trying to make his way to the hospital.

He stopped suddenly when he reached the hospital courtyard leading to the entrance. Lying down all around the pathway were corpses of all sizes. Men, women, and children lay lifelessly in puddles of blood. The gold paint of the front doors was no longer visible under the splatters of blood, but a clean gold key was set in the lock.

It was obvious to Matt that the hospital wouldn't be sending an ambulance anytime soon.

"What happened here?" he asked no one in particular.

As if in answer to his question, something growled from behind him. Turning around in shock, Matt saw that some of the men had caught up to him. Another moan sounded from behind him. Whirling around, he saw that burning people from the other end of the street had come to tango.

Adrenaline pumping again, Matt turned to the dead bodies still on the ground. He bolted for the hospital doors, stepping on a corpse's hand, and running over the torso of another. Matt jiggled the handle as soon as he got within reach of the doors. But no luck.

Something too close to Matt for comfort let out a tired moan, and in the corner of his eye he saw one of the bodies struggle to get up. Not allowing himself to think about that, he rammed his shoulder into the heavy doors. They didn't budge, as a skinny fifteen year old boy wasn't exactly a metaphorical ox. Seeing the key, he hurriedly turned it. He tried the doors again, but to no avail.

More corpses rose, and stumbled towards Matt. Turning the key the other way, he heard a small click. He pushed open the door, and fell through it. The heavy door slammed against a man who had just tried to fall on him. _Dramatic_, Matt thought.

He took a second to breathe, and then realized that the door was unlocked. Bolting upright, he turned the lock on the door, vaguely thinking that a lock on a hospital was an idiotic idea. The silver lock did look out of place on the gold doors, and the screws didn't look as tight as they could have been…

Matt didn't get to finish his thought, as he turned around and screamed.


	5. It

Note: Yeah, I know the first four chapters were painfully short. I'm trying to make them bigger from now on. So rock on.

It was like the rest of them, but…different. One of its arms had stretched out like bubble gum, thinning out before the fingertips touched the floor. The mouth was missing a lower lip, and there simply was no nose. A white hospital gown revealed blue veins, dramatically enhanced by the light of the fire outside, shining through the glass in the windows. The burning men from outside pressed themselves against the doors and windows, casting dramatic shadows across the thing's body.

All in all, it was quite a scary moment.

The thing roared at him. The one upper lip flared up, revealing more blackened gums and browning teeth. Matt pressed himself against the door, causing the people outside to renew their efforts to break in.

The creature pulled its elongated arm back, and flung it towards Matt's head. Flinging his head to the right, Matt barely dodged the thing's hand, noting that the fingernails were grown out to resemble claws. As the monster withdrew his arm, it pulled out a small chunk of the metal door. A woman from outside tried to squeeze through the hole, ripping her skin and parts of her flesh off on the jagged metal edges.

Matt stood up, and dizzy as he was, bolted past the creature. It spun its hand around, hitting Matt in the right arm with the back of its hand. Matt was knocked into the left wall, and screamed as his arm flooded with pain. The monster walked towards him, slow as the burning people. The woman had gotten into the lobby as well, vertical gashes in her body showing where the jagged metal bits in the hole were and ripping her clothes to shreds.

Trying to shelve the pain in his arm, Matt simultaneously crawled towards a heavy wooden desk and stumbled to his feet. He rolled over it and fell onto the floor behind it just as the thing whipped its arm again. Matt landed on his injured arm and screamed in pain. Ignoring it, he searched for a weapon, or at least a shield.

He didn't succeed. But he found a door.

Matt crawled away from the desk, noting that he was behind the reception counter. The door was about twenty feet away. Matt just hoped it wasn't locked.

And then the thing, obviously smarter than one would think, slammed its arm against the counter. It ripped in half, the farther part slamming against the wall, blocking the door. A huge roar sounded as this took place. The creature was now angry.

Well, didn't that just top off a fun morning?

The woman who had crawled in the hole stumbled over to the wreckage of the counter. Obviously much less off in the mental department than the creature, she tripped over the broken part. Not bothering to rise, she pulled herself along the ground towards Matt. A trail of blood marked her path on the floor behind her, like a snail.

Matt stood up, then ran back to the desk he jumped over. He pulled out drawers in a frenzy, oblivious to where the creature or the woman were. Glancing up briefly, he saw that a man had crawled through the hole as well, with another on the way.

In his mind, Matt was fighting a whole different battle. His body wanted to surrender to fear and let the creature take him. His mind was on a different track, though. Ideas and strategies popped in and out of his head, not really making sense. Too busy to consciously think about what he was doing, Matt jumped back over the desk, and walked slowly to the middle of the lobby.

The creature noticed this, and turned towards him. Without a dramatic showdown, it swung its long arm at Matt. It flew over his head as Matt threw himself to the ground. Getting up immediately, Matt ran towards it before it could swing again. Balling his fist, Matt gave the creature the old right hook.

It stumbled a little with the force of the blow. Matt screamed in pain, but backhanded the creature with the same arm. This time, he hit its mouth, breaking the filthy teeth and getting saliva on his hand. In a frenzy now, Matt kicked the creature in the stomach, then punched him again. Pain shot through Matt's joints, but he didn't really notice. The sound of his screams faded as he became fully engrossed in the fight. The pain dulled, and he didn't even think about the fact that he was touching this thing with his bare skin.

Matt forced the thing backwards with furious punches to the face. Close to the wreckage of the counter now, Matt jumped up on the unbroken half of the counter, and kicked the thing in the head with his heel. It roared, and stepped back. Flailing it's arm wildly, it accidentally tripped Matt. He fell behind the counter, and came face to face with the woman, still struggling on the floor. With a moan, she leaned towards his neck.

And her brains blew out, splattering on the floor behind her.

Pushing the corpse off of him, Matt turned around on the floor.

A terrified-looking teenage girl in Goth clothes and makeup stood in the doorway behind the wreckage. Not saying a word or getting up, Matt pointed in the general direction of the creature. Whirling her head around, the girl aimed her gun and shot it in the head as the arm started towards her. The thing died instantly, its arm stopping just an inch short of the girl's face.

The girl then aimed her gun at Matt.

"NO!" he shouted hoarsely.

"Have…you been bitten?" she asked in an equally hoarse voice, sounding as if she were on the brink of breaking down.

"No." Matt paused. "Why?"

"That's how they get you." The girl suddenly burst into tears and dropped to her knees.

Matt crawled over to her. Putting an arm around her shoulders, he said, "It's gonna be alright. We just gotta-"

The man who had crawled out of the hole after the woman lunged for the pair of them. Uncanny reflexes kicking in, Matt slugged him in the face. Taking the girl's gun from her trembling hands, he aimed quickly in the second that the man faltered, and shot a round into his head.

With a short scream, the girl pressed closer to Matt, who said, "We have to leave! There's gonna be more!". He pulled her up with him, and started to the door she had came from.

"No!" she suddenly said. "There's more…things back there…"

Risking a quick glance around the lobby, Matt saw three more of them stumbling towards the duo. The only other doors in the lobby were past the people.

"We gotta risk it. Let's just go!" Matt said as he pulled her along to the door.

The door opened into the next room, which appeared to be an employee lounge. Slamming the door behind them, Matt let go of the girl and pulled a chair up against the door. Looking around the room, he saw three more doors, but they posed no immediate threat to them. Matt collapsed into a white couch. The girl sat down next to him.

Taking a deep breath, Matt said, "Well…I'm Matt…thanks."

"…I'm Mean. I mean, my name is…what's happening here?" she said softly.

Matt frowned. "Damn. I was hoping you knew." A pause. Then, he asked, "So, how did you get here?"

"Oh," she said softly. "I was in the hospital since four yesterday. My boyfriend was…bitten…by one of those freaks. The people…they broke in here close to midnight. My boyfriend turned into one of them and he tried to bite me. And that's normal, but he just seemed…starved. I went to get him food and saw more like him. I got the gun off the…body of a cop, and I've been wandering since…" She stopped and broke into tears.

Matt put his hand on her back, wincing with pain as he did it. "It's okay. We'll…find another exit. One less ridden with those sick people. We can go to the police or something. All we have to-"

"They're not just sick, Matt." She interrupted. "They're dead."

Matt looked at Mean, trying to read her face. All he could see is that she was dead serious. No pun intended. "So…we're talking zombies here?"

Mean smiled a little. "Every girl's dream."

"What about the one with the huge arm?" Matt asked.

"I don't know. Did he…break that counter?"

"Yeah. But I'd call that thing more of an 'it'." Matt stood up and walked over to the table in the middle of the room. He flipped through random papers and objects scattered on the table. They were all newspapers and old memos-nothing of interest.

"So why are you in your boxers?" Mean asked, amusement poking out in her voice.

Matt grinned. "I was sleeping. I woke up at 3 and had to get out of the house. I'm not exactly prioritizing my threads when under attack by my cat."

Mean slowly looked up at him. "Animals…can be infected too?"

"Apparently nothing's immune." He paused. "How…did you know it's a virus?"

Looking startled, she said, "What? No, I didn't."

Matt turned and walked towards her. "What do you know?" he asked sharply.

She sighed. "I found…a note in one of the offices. It's about something called the T-Virus." She handed it over.

Matt read it quickly. He said, "This isn't going to make things easier."


	6. Death Letter

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I just got to thank the people who took the time to review my story. Here's to Horrorfanatic6990, Tinkies, and AnimaSola!I luv you guys!

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My name is Jackson Loams. If you are reading this, odds are I'm dead, or very close to it.

I'll get to the point. There's been an outbreak of some sort of a certain manmade virus in Raccoon City, called the T-Virus, and we have no idea how to control this. The symptoms of this virus start out varied between people, with symptoms ranging from those in a simple cold, to fatal conditions like pneumonia.

Eventually, the virus develops inside the host, and kills it. The one thing that sets this virus apart from a quickly developing flu is the fact that once the host body is dead, the virus, plainly put, brings it back to life.

The resurrected host doesn't seem to have conscious thought. Their nerves seem to remain dead, meaning they don't feel pain. The one thing that their reanimated bodies seem to acknowledge is the primal need to feed. No matter how mutilated their bodies are, they only try to meet that need.

Although we still don't know exactly how this virus is transmitted, we can theorize that it needs a solid or liquid form to enter new host bodies. We're nearly positive that this outbreak hasn't contaminated the air to a high enough level to spread airborne.

The simplest way that we know of to become infected with the T-Virus is to be bitten or scratched by one in the final (hopefully the final) stages of the virus. Avoid contact with any infected at all costs! If you yourself are succumbing to the thrall of this virus, please realize the danger you are putting others in. If possible, quarantine yourself. If unable, suicide is the only other moral option.

Although illogical and morally unsound, termination of those in the deeper stages might be necessary. There are precious few ways to kill the reanimated bodies - God bless us, zombies - that we know of. Severe trauma to the head is a possibility, as is burning the body. These are the only two ways which I know of, so my advice to you is 'aim for the head'. Simply crippling the infected will not stop them, but can allow for escape.

I know all this, as I work for the very people who created the T-Virus. Namely, the Umbrella Corporation. Do not be fooled by their general services front; they hold extreme power in military and espionage forces alike.

If you find this, please, take it to someone with power. Raccoon City isn't the smallest; I'm sure somebody will survive. We need to reveal the darker side of the Umbrella Corporation before they can continue creating things that no man was ever meant to.

The infection spreads through me now, and I'll be incapable of writing soon. My last words to you are godspeed and, simply, there's always something worth living for.

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"So, this is all Umbrella's fault?" Matt said sharply.

"As far as we know. It might be something else, though…" Mean responded.

"It's not." Matt cut in sharply. "It never is."

Matt sat down on the couch. They rested in silence for a moment, absorbing the situation. Then, Mean asked, "Is this Hell?"

Turning his head towards her, Matt quickly replied, "No!" He frowned. "Things have just…"

Glaring at him behind wet eyes, Mean snapped, "Things have just what, Matt? Everyone's dead, a killer virus is on the loose, and we're sitting in a hospital surrounded with zombies and things with long arms and who the fuck knows what else!" She screamed the last part. Something from the lobby, most likely a zombie, walked into the barricaded door, trying to get to the sound. Mean went on, louder, "So what do we do? We're gonna die today, so let's just shoot ourselves in the head, shall we? Or what else did the miracle file from beneath the seven layers say? Huh? Fire? Shall we dance in the fucking flames of…"

"SHUT UP!" Matt yelled. "Just shut up! I don't know!" Mean stopped, and burst into tears. A second later, Matt joined her. Unashamed, the two teens cried in frustration, pain, and fear.

A minute later, Matt put his hands over his eyes, and rubbed them dry, trying to stop. He succeeded, and breathed heavily for a moment. Putting his injured hand on Mean's back, Matt said, "Mean, you gotta stop."

She turned, and looked at him, tears subsiding. "What are we gonna do?" she asked in a whisper.

Matt opened his mouth, and closed it. A thought went through his head, making him seriously think for a minute. Still working on it, he asked, "Mean…where did you find that note?"

Wiping tears from her face, she muttered, "What? Um…probably the research wing. I think I ended up there after…after Pain…"

"Your boyfriend?" Matt asked. She nodded, so he continued. "Do you remember how to get to the research wing?"

"Well…not really." Mean answered.

With a sigh, Matt said, "Well that's where we're gonna go."

A minute later, they stood side by side next to the wooden door on the side farthest from where they had came in. Gun in his shaking hand, Matt turned the doorknob.

Something inside the next room made a sound. Matt released the handle and stumbled back, aiming the gun at the door he had left unopened.

Sighing, and with a hint of a grin on her face, Mean stepped up and opened the door, revealing a small bathroom. The hinges squeaked as she did so. Looking at Matt, she slightly shook her head in amusement. "Ok, it seems I'll be opening the doors." she said quietly.

Matt arbitrarily shivered. They moved to the next closest door.

Mean turned the gold knob, and quickly moved backwards. Matt, gun first, went through the door. Aiming it in all the corners, he inched into the room, seeing it was a hallway. An end table sat in front of a window in the corner of an L-shaped bend in the hallway. Moonlight shone in, making six illuminated squares on the carpet.

Stepping in, Matt looked at Mean, who slowly walked in after him. "You're acting like a rookie cop," she muttered as she neared him.

"Well, it's better I'm a cop than someone useless here. Like a… a librarian. Or a salesman." Matt snapped back at her. He started to say more, but stopped when he saw her smiling a little and shaking her head at him. Pushing past her, he walked up to the window.

Immediately, a zombie slammed his head and both hands into the window, shattering shards of glass and wood frame onto the tiled ground. Matt screamed shortly, and jumped back into a similarly screaming Mean. They tripped over each other, and fell onto the ground. The gun fell out of Matt's handed as he landed on the floor, on Mean's legs.

The zombie toppled headfirst through the window, and another appeared at the scene. Rolling off Mean, Matt reached blindly for the gun, not knowing where it had fallen. The zombie struggled to rise, as the one now in the window tried to push through. Lucky for them, the window was rather small and the zombie incredibly obese.

Mean got to her knees, and helped Matt in his blind search for the weapon. They both moved their hands across the floor frantically, the zombie now standing and staggering towards them.

Giving up on the search, Matt stood up. "Aww, fuck it." he said. Balling his fist, he punched the rotting zombie right in the temple. Blood splattered against the wall as the zombie fell against it. The blow had dented its skull, but it still pushed itself up, never turning away from its prey. Matt shook the blood and skin off of his hand, holding in a scream of pain, as the zombie rose.

"Mean," Matt said. "A gun would make me happy right now."

"Trying, Matt." Mean said abruptly.

The zombie took a step towards Matt. Panicking, he reached at the walls, vaguely hoping for a painting or something to hit the thing with. "Mean!" he said, as he backed up another step.

Wordlessly, she rose and put a cold metal object into his hands. Matt found the handle, and raised the gun up to the zombie's head. Stupidly, it took another step forwards, and reached for Matt's hands.

He fired.

Blood, bone, and something unidentifiable in the dark splattered across the fat zombie in the window. The one in the room fell back against the end table, breaking the wooden legs as they both fell.

"Oh, Hell," Mean stammered. She turned around, crouched, and vomited. Matt just stood there, staring at the lifeless body, and looking even closer at the blood and guts on the window zombie. Raising the gun again, he shot a round at the zombie's head. It grazed the skull, but he (don't think of them as people, Matt) kept on trying to squeeze through the window. A distant moan sounded from outside.

A hand reached through the broken window, squeezing in next to the fat zombie's head. More moans sounded from behind them. The fat zombie was nearly crushed as multiple other zombies from outside tried to squeeze into the window. None of them seemed to notice that the others were even there. All they could see was the pair of living, breathing people.

"Mean," Matt said softly. "There's…more. Lots. We…we gotta go past them."

"I can't," Mean said abruptly. "We can go back, find another door…"

"No. There's probably just another bathroom back in the break room, and there's gonna be too many of them in the hall. This is it. The way."

Matt paused, watching them cram into the window. Almost sadly, he asked, "Do you wanna go first?"

Although he couldn't see her, Matt knew she was shaking her head. "Shoot them! We'll…just shoot them…" Mean pleaded.

"We gotta be running out of ammo soon. And I'm sure there's more of them around." Not sparing another word, Matt squeezed against the wall and prepared to go around the corner.

Mean was breathing quite heavily. _No panic attacks, Mean_, he tried to tell her silently.

He suddenly remembered the zombie's corpse, and all conscious thought transferred from her to the dead body as he approached the corner of the hall. A backboard running all around the hallway dug into the small of his back, but he ignored it, like he did the throbbing pain in his right arm.

Slowly moving his feet around the sharp bend, Matt tried to ignore the undead hands an inch from his face.

He totally failed. He'd used up all his bravery for the day already.

Forgetting to shriek, he dived around the corner. Fingertips brushed past his bare skin, causing him to shudder in midair. He fell out of reach on the other side of the corner, enraging the zombies. They renewed their attempts to get through, but they just ended up shoving closer together. Three heads and a whole lot of arms were poking through the window.

Standing up out of reach, Matt yelled, "Mean! Come on!"

"I can't!" she yelled back, as she stepped closer to the corner. A hand reached towards her, and she screamed and jumped back.

Matt sighed, shut his eyes, and thought. _Her taking a detour is out, _he thought._ The window's too low to the ground for her to crawl under, and she won't just slip past…_Matt looked again at the fat zombie. All the others were behind him, heads and arms poking in from every way.

Without thinking, Matt raised the gun and shot the fat one in the head. He fell back, taking the other zombies with him. Still without thought, he stepped up, grabbed Mean by the arm, and pulled her away right as another zombie came up to the window. "Come on!" he yelled, seeing the new zombie slide through the window onto the floor. Half dragging Mean, Matt ran to the end of the hall and opened the door.

Or, more like, jiggled the handle to no avail.

It was locked.

Whirling around, Matt saw that the new zombie had gotten to its feet somehow. Slowly, it inched towards him. Matt raised the gun.

With a fluid motion from beside him, Mean grabbed it. She aimed it at the door handle and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Another zombie fell through the window.

Weaponless and trapped, Matt and Mean watched in horror as the zombie neared them.


	7. Diary of an 80 Year Old Madman

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This chapter's ending sounds simple, but I've got a plan. Things will come together-never fear!

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Panicking, Matt slammed his elbow into the door. A sharp pain shot up his arm. Vaguely thinking to use his good arm, he rammed his left fist into the wood. The door didn't even shake.

The zombie was a couple steps away, with another one…no, two now, following close behind. Yet another was still trying to go through the window. Matt hit the door again. Right punch, left punch, bam bam bam. His knuckles were beginning to bleed with the force of the impact, leaving small streaks of red clustered in groups on the door. The pain drove him now, forcing him to continue.

Shrieking, Mean slammed a fist into the wall beside of them. The drywall smashed beneath her fist. Imitating Matt now, she struck the wall with both hands mindlessly, yelling with each blow.

The lead zombie put a rapidly decaying hand on the back of Mean's cutoff Ramones shirt. She screamed, stopped punching, and backed into Matt. He turned around and looked into the glazed eyes.

The door behind them burst its hinges, knocking over Matt and Mean. It hit the lead zombie square in the head, making him fall. The two of them felt pressure on their backs as something lighter than them ran over the door.

The zombie third from the front collapsed, knocking over the two behind it. A low growl sounded, lower than any human alive could have made.

Silhouetted by the moonlight behind, Matt made out the shape of something small, vicious, and strangely reminiscent of Homer.

Bark, bark.

Here doggie.

As it ran towards them, Matt pushed himself closer to the empty doorframe. He grabbed the door as he rose, lifting it over his head quickly. With one last punch, it fell over, knocking down the slowly re-rising zombies. A sharp yip told Matt that something had hit the dog. Triumphantly, but beat, he sighed.

Mean, now on her feet, grabbed Matt's shoulder. "Come on!" she yelled at him. Both feet asleep, Matt stumbled behind her into the next room.

No time to spare, they went to the neared door, which easily opened. Not even looking inside, they ran in and slammed it shut. The door was lacking a lock, so Matt looked for something to barricade the door with. Mean went to a door on the other side of the room.

Feeling around in the dark room, Matt's hands ran over what was probably a counter. Hurrying along, he bumped into a chair, which he promptly picked up and placed under the door handle. With a sigh, he rested his head against the wall.

For a moment, he just relaxed, ignoring the dog run up and hit the door. _Hey, at least he doesn't have opposable thumbs_, Matt thought. He then noticed the his forehead hurt. Standing up straight, he moved a hand up and felt around a switch. Matt quickly flicked it up.

The overhead light turned on with a small click. Mean screamed and looked over at him. Turning his head to look at her, he said softly, "Isn't the power out?"

Returning to a quiet demeanor, she said, "It must be on a separate sys…why the fuck are we in the morgue?" Matt hurriedly looked around the room. On the left wall, fifteen steel drawers sat in rows of five, looking like filing cabinets. The rest of the room was a normal doctor's office, crowded in the right side of the room. A desk with messy papers sat close to the drawers. Matt stepped over to it and leafed through the papers as Mean went to check out the doctor's office side of the room. _Well, at least that dog stopped_, he thought, unsure when it actually had ended.

Shoving aside uninteresting memos and requests for supplies and the like, Matt picked up a small book. A photo was stuck carelessly inside the front cover. He took the photo and saw it was an old black and white print. A girl in a sundress and straw hat stood happily with her arm around a grinning young man in shorts. Both of their hands were up, revealing identical wedding rings. A caption was written in black pen below the picture, reading 'To The Future!'. Matt flipped it over, looking for a date. _Bingo bongo_, he thought obscurely as he saw 'June 30, 1959' written with the same ink.

Putting two and two together, Matt guessed the mystery man's age. "I'm surprised this guy still has a desk here." he said to Mean.

"Why?" she asked, sounding a little distracted.

"Well, this guy's gotta be around 75, maybe more." Matt responded, holding up the photo. Opening the book, he saw that it was a diary. _Cute_, he thought. _Will I keep a diary when I'm 80 and senile?_ Matt flipped through the pages, noting the guy wrote regularly. He stopped at May 29.

------

_Adam didn't eat today. I'm worried about him. Sometimes, I wonder if Adam will be my last project. But what would I do? There's nobody left at home, not even that whiny, pathetic excuse for a dog. All gone._

_They almost opened the divider today. My Lord, it was the fright of my life! If they found Adam, they'd surely separate us! I can't leave him! I have a feeling that he's the one. All we need is to get him on a regular feeding schedule, and we'll commence the transfer._

_Sophie's excited for me. As well she should be. When I am Lord, she will certainly be at my right hand side. She's got soul._

_I must try to feed Adam once again. He needs to accept the food when it is given. _

_Does he not know that I control him?_

_------_

"…What?" Matt asked blandly.

Mean looked over at him. "What'd you find?"

"One minute." Matt said quickly, and turned to the last page in the book. It was blank, so Matt flipped backwards until he found the last entry, dated June 25.

------

_It's hard to believe that the night is so near. Three days until the transfer. Adam's in top shape, and ready for action. _

_With the coming of the day, I begin to wonder why I continue to write in this wretched little black book. I shan't read it after the transfer, so why do I bother?_

_Although my excitement knows no bounds, I'm also a great deal angry. Sophie found a weakness with Adam today. With three days away, we decided to continue as scheduled. Besides, it's not like anyone caps bullets with something like mercury! Unless somebody breaks a thermometer or something over Adam's head, we'll be alright._

_Oh! The excitement is just flooding! I can no longer write! Goodbye, you dirty little book!_

_------_

"Um…Meeeeean?" Matt asked slowly.

"Come over here."

"Yeah." Matt walked over to the doctor's side of the room, diary in hand. Sitting on the patient's chair, he handed her the book. "Seems our fave mid 80's man kept a liddle diary."

Mean took it, with a little bit of curiousity showing on her face. She flipped to the back entry, as he did. She read it quickly, frowning as she did so. "What the Hell does that mean?" she asked him.

Matt took a deep breath. "…Don't know." he finally said. Mean picked up something from the table behind her. She took Matt's right hand, and poured a load of peroxide on it.

"Ahh…ow, ow, ow, what are you doing, Mean, ow, ow, ow…" Matt said very quickly.

"Treating your wounds." Mean responded, suppressing a smile.

Matt sighed, and said, "One, ow, two, I'm fine.". He pulled his hand away.

She shook her head. "Look. There's a virus spreading, and you've got opened wounds. I don't want you infected."

Matt grinned. "Aww, you care about me!"

Mean responded with a look that could kill everything in a ten mile radius, if there was even anything still alive in such boundaries. "And…um, we're out of bullets. I'm too…" She frowned. "I'm too weak and girlish to fight."

"Yes. You. Girl. Weak. Cause you're nearly bigger than me." It was true. Matt was the tall and skinny type.

Mean punched him lightly on the arm. Matt noticed that she had a gauze patch on her hand. Forcefully this time, she grabbed his arm and put a gauze patch on his wound. She did the same to the left hand.

"Thanks…" Matt muttered.

Mean swallowed. "Ready?" she asked. They both looked towards the drawers at the other end of the room.

"Nope." Matt said. He got up and walked to the other end of the room. Mean followed, a little shaky. Her boots squeaked on the tiled floor with every step.

Matt grasped the handle on one of the draws. With a shaking hand, he slowly pulled the drawer open. It opened slowly, and Matt noticed that the inside had multiple blotches of rust. Other than that, nada.

"So…do we keep trying?" Matt asked.

Mean stepped up to look closer at the empty drawer. "We might as well," she said slowly. "It might have something to do with Adam or whatever that book was talking about." She stepped to the left and opened the bottom drawer. Matt walked over to the right, and followed suit.

Most of them were spotless, but one other had a little bit of rust inside. "Why the rust?" Matt asked.

Mean didn't respond for a moment, but Matt knew. "Probably blood." she muttered a moment later.

They met in the middle. Opening the drawers together now, they made good time on the last three. The middle drawer was completely covered in rust, although you never would have guessed that if it was closed.

"How melodramatic." Matt said when they closed the last door.

"Well, did you really want to find a corpse?" Mean asked.

"It doesn't make sense, though. Why have a combination morgue and doctor's office? Why is there nothing in the drawers?"

Mean didn't respond, mostly because a wall started to slide shut, cutting off the doctor's office. They both ran towards the rapidly closing wall, and tried to stop it from shutting by pulling back on the forward-most end of the wall. They had absolutely no effect. The wall dragged them forward, forcing them to let go as it closed off the doctor's office.

"Why the fuck didn't that happen earlier?" Matt asked angrily.

A drawer slid open behind them with a metallic squeak.

They both turned around very slowly.

The middle drawer was lying open, a huge corpse lying down on it. Muscles bulged from the visible arms and torso, making Matt wonder how the hell that thing had fit in that drawer.

"We…we checked that one. Just now. That doesn't happen." Mean stammered, pointing at the open drawer. Matt remained silent.

Predictably, the thing rose. Veins showed on its pasty-white body, especially around its bald head. It lifted a massive foot out of the sheet covering it, and stepped down from the drawer. The sheet fell, and Matt couldn't see anything between its legs.

It turned slowly to face them. The eyes were white, just like the eyes of the rest of the people that they had encountered that night.

Its mouth opened, revealing sharp fang-like teeth. Slow and struggling, an impossibly deep voice growled, "Tr..ans..ss..format..ation co…compl…ete."

All that Matt and Mean could do was stand there, mouths wide open, as what must be Adam took a step towards them.


	8. Ball and Noose

03/11/05: My life has officially gone absolutely bonkers. If you're looking for the actual story, scroll a page or two down; I'm about to rant.

Well, I won't bore you with the details, interesting as they may be.. What it all boils down to is that I'm one screwed up kid who's seen some weird stuff in the past month. Interested in my (hopefully) insanity? Well, I've got a Blogger blog, I'll post the link next chapter. Anyways, I'm writing much differently now, even if it doesn't show. Yes. That makes sense. I've made a pact to write three chapters after this one, then see this fanfic will work out. I'm wrapping up this chapter quickly, but the new one will be much bigger. And minus a month and a half delay.

Back to what I wrote a month ago:

To be honest, I don't love how this one turned out. I've rewritten multiple times, hence the uber-delay.

To Lamont, the odd paragraphs are the result of the worst-est English course I've ever taken. The prof was in love with the single sentence paragraphs…still working em all out of my system. So I know, annoying!

AND I have about as many reviews as chapters which makes be do my super special dance involving canasta and BBQed cauliflower. Keep the feedback coming. I need help actually continuing to write on a single story and STILL keep it (hopefully) interesting. It IS my first fanfic, so try not to chew me out… ahh, whatever. I mock first-timers too. 

If I haven't e-mailed you back, VERY VERY SORRY! I suck at email… I never find time to sit down and answer the 2 non-spam a week I actually get. Don't worry, I WILL get to it soon.

Gawd, do I babble. Like a fish. Without further ado, here's chapter 8 of…RESIDENT EVIL: ASYLUM THEORY! (yay)

------

Adam didn't seem to acknowledge the presence of Matt and Mean. He…it…raised a giant hand, waving it about, seeming to test the hand as if uncertain it would move. Biceps rippled on the massive, pale arm as Adam tested his hand. Systematically, he/it checked every limb, then twisted its thick neck as Matt and Mean gaped in fear and a little repulsion.

With a huge snap, Adam's neck cracked. Both pale white eyes turned rapidly to the two people invading its home.

Mean squeaked. Matt just stared at the huge psuedo-man thing, an odd ringing in his ears. His consciousness didn't register Adam's growl, or Mean pushing him. There was a sharp pain in his arm, probably the result of him crashing his bad arm into the desk. With a sharp thump, he slammed his head against the heavy wooden desk. He suddenly felt nauseous, although his body was still empty. Light-headed, dizzy, and terrified, he fought back the urge to lay down and pulled himself up instead. With the world a little blurry now, he turned around and vaguely saw Mean jump to the side as the pale man lunged for her.

"NO!" Matt bellowed. With surprising agility, Adam whirled around and gazed blankly at him. _Was that a smile?_ Matt thought blandly as he ran back to the drawers. Impossibly, Adam took a step towards him and leaped Superman-style, unnaturally sharp nails outstretched. Rolling over the open drawer, Matt heard the clang of a hard object against metal as Adam hit the wall directly behind him. Rising quickly, Matt kept running around the edge of the room. Near the wall that had closed, he pulled a very dazed Mean to her feet, wondering when she had fallen. Sparing a glance back, Matt saw Adam pulling his hands out of the metal drawer. Massive holes remained where Adam had dug his nails into.

"Claws." said Matt softly. "Why?"

Adam ripped both hands out of the drawer to the left of the middle. He whirled around to face Matt, a mask of anger…no, rage, imprinted on his pale face. Mean ran over to the one still accessible door, but neither Matt nor Adam paid any attention.

Matt suddenly felt very vulnerable in his blue and black striped boxers. Goosebumps quickly pricked up on his skin as he tensed, waiting for the next move. Part of him then gave up hope. Suicide flashed through his mind, but the still hopeful part remembered Mean.

Adam took a step forward, causing Matt to flinch visibly. Matt was sure that the thing had smiled once more, but didn't concentrate on that thought. Adam bolted, again with the abnormal speed, towards the desk. With one hand, he picked it up and flung it at Matt. He dived to the side, and the desk hit the wall with a massive sound. Exhaling quickly, Matt looked behind him.

The desk had hit the wall, causing it to buckle. Cracks ran out from around the point of impact, and pieces of drywall fell off. Seconds later, the bulk of the wall fell backwards into another room.

Coughing, Matt stumbled up. Mean had seemed to have given up on the door and grabbed his elbow. Adam started towards them as Matt and Mean stumbled through the hole in the wall. They dived through the hole together, Adam doing another Superman jump behind them.

Matt landed on his stomach, causing all air to escape his lungs. Not faltering, he grabbed Mean's shoulder and pulled her up as they ran towards another door in the new room. Matt noticed that is was another hallway just as Adam landed heavily a foot behind them. Broken pieces of drywall were crushed under him, and Matt and Mean both choked on the rising dust. They reached the door nearest to the hole as Adam rose. Surprisingly, it opened easily. They ran through and slammed the door shut, finding themselves in an office. A window sat on the far wall. Matt ran up and smashed it, motioning for Mean to go through. Clumsily, she went through one leg at a time. She hopped outside just as the door broke its hinges and flew towards the far wall with a single blow from Adam. Mean screamed from outside, but Adam ignored her, turning to Matt instead. This time, he really did grin.

Impossibly fast, Adam flung a fist in Matt's direction. Matt flung himself to the floor, feeling the blow rush over his head. Mean screamed again as the wall in front of her broke with the punch. Pieces of broken brick from the outer wall flew in her face, and she started coughing frantically.

Matt rolled towards Adam, grabbed a pale leg, and used it to slide towards the open doorway. Adam flung his leg backwards just as Matt let go, causing him to fly up and hit the wall next to the hole. Hitting the ground once more, Matt crawled towards the end of the hall, despite a sharp pain in his spine. On his feet now, he opened another door, finding himself in an identical office. He heard a deep roar of fury as he smashed the window and crawled out as Mean had.

Mean ran towards him, tears running down her face, causing her black eyeliner to drip down her cheeks. An eerie glow was cast by a lone streetlamp, not casting enough light to illuminate the area. Mean grabbed Matt's hand and pulled him up. They both ran away from the lamp and the offices, heading deeper into the darkness. There was no moon overhead anymore.

Half a minute later, they found themselves facing a brick wall. With almost no vision, Matt and Mean felt around the wall, trying to find something that would open. The unspoken fear lingered over them- where the hell had Adam gone? Matt's hands started to hurt, mostly because they were dragging harshly along the rough bricks. _Window, door. Mousehole on the floor, _Matt thought obscurely.

"Here." Mean said quickly. Abandoning his own search, Matt moved to where Mean's voice had come from, just to his left. Feeling around near her, his fingers touched cold glass. "Break?" he asked quietly. Mean said nothing. If she nodded, Matt couldn't see. Pulling his left fist back, he punched the window.

It took him a second, but Matt realized that nothing had broken. Then, all at once, fire shot through his knuckle. He yelled in pain. Mean grabbed his shoulder, trying to find out what was wrong. "The glass…" Matt started. "It…it's not…"

Mean raised her hand in the darkness and touched the window. "It's warm," she said softly. "Do you have the gun?"

Breathing heavily, Matt muttered, "No. Busy trying to evade tall, dark, and handsome." Shelving the pain with the rest of tonight's fun, Matt raised his right hand and felt around the frame. He felt cold metal, oddly contrasting with the still warm glass.

They stood in silence for a moment. "Where do we go from here?" Mean asked.

Matt didn't answer right away. Thoughts lazily drifted through his head, and for the first time he noticed he was freezing his ass off. Snapping into the moment, he said, "Well, we can give up on purposely finding the research place or whatever. Right now, we're going to get inside, grab a weapon, and think. All before my balls turn to ice."

Mean snorted. "Well, I assume that we're not getting through this puppy." she said.

"No. And ow." Matt responded. He paused. "Well, we can't risk going back, thanks to the undead bodybuilder back there. I guess…well, let's find another window somewhere."

A cold wind rose up, causing every hair on Matt's body to stick straight up. _Think of fire, _he thought, as he groped along the rough wall in the darkness, looking for anything useful.

"If my balls don't shrivel up and die due to extreme cold, I'll-"

"Window." Mean interrupted. Shelving the numbing cold, Matt forced his knees to bend, one leg forward, now the other. Rinse, lather, repeat. Only if you're in the shower, though. No rubber duck in the Adam. Too tall. Too cold- will you freeze? No rubber duck he-

A loud noise jarred him back to the moment. Squinting into the darkness in front of him, he vaguely saw Mean climbing through a broken window. Mentally pushing himself along, Matt struggled through the window. Clumsily, he fell headfirst onto the cold tile floor inside, causing his boxers to ride up. Angrily pushing them down again, he thought, _Did I just go insane for a minute there?_ He laughed bitterly, making blood rise up in the back of his mouth. Or was it vomit? Who cared at this point?

Mean put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch and step back towards the window. "Matt?" she asked tentatively. "Are you…alright?"

_Yes,_ Matt thought. _Just say yes, dammit, be a man…_

"Fine." He blurted out. "I'm…fine, yeah. Fruity."

Mean gave him an odd look before turning around and trying to see what else was in the room. Matt leaned against the wall, forcing the rapidly rising bile down back inside of him. "You've seen corpses. Zombies. Walking albino lumps of scar tissue. Now you climb through a window, and lose it?" Matt muttered.

Fluorescent light flickered on overhead, the dulled light causing Matt and Mean to wince and shield their eyes. "Alright, we'll make a pact," Matt said dully. "We tell each other if we're gonna turn on the lights."

Mean shook her head sharply. "Not me," she muttered hoarsely.

It took a minute, but Matt finally registered what she just said. Mind turning to defense and self-preservation, he scanned the room for anything that could be used for a weapon. The walls of the room were lined with cheap bookshelves. Two old chairs sat at a round wooden table in the middle of the small room. Mean stepped forward and snapped the chair leg. She tossed the short wooden shaft to Matt, then broke off another for herself.

They stood listening for a moment. The only sound was the faint humming of the lights above. As one, they moved towards the door across from the window. A complicated design was engraved in the dark wood, not matching the style of the rest of the room.

"Fire." Mean said suddenly.

Matt whirled around, and blurted out, "Where?"

"No, no, the motif on the door. It's the symbol for fire."

Panic still jittering his body, Matt stepped up to the door and placed a hand on the golden knob, eyes never leaving the engraving. He quickly twisted it and swung the door open, chair leg firmly in hand. They walked out into an unlit hallway. Bare boards were protected by a soft carpet runner spread across the middle of the floor. Matt could see the vague shape of portraits lining the walls, but not the pictures. Listening intently now, he shuffled away from the bookshelf room, noting a sudden change in air temperature. The hallway was shockingly warm compared to the last room. Matt heard no noise indicating a nearby heater, nor did he feel a vent.

"Where are we?" he asked, almost afraid to break the silence.

Mean sighed, and took a step to the left. "Go together or split up?" she asked quietly.

Matt laughed sharply. "Yes, let's split up, weaponless. Let's go into the darkness alone and unprotected. Let's fight big, freaking hulking creatures by ourselves. Great idea there." he snapped.

Mean sucked in air. "Together, then." she said, and walked towards the shadows. Smiling, Matt followed her. The light faded as they rounded a corner, causing them to slow down.

Lights that neither of them could see flickered on, causing both of them to whirl around mindlessly, readying the chair legs. "What. The. Fuck.", stammered Matt.

"Someone's watching us.", said Mean calmly. A little pissed at her coolness, Matt shot her a look, but kept quiet. What help would a spat be now?

Sighing, Mean said, "Well, we better keep moving. If someone's watching us this closely, then they must be in a safe place…right?"

_Why didn't you calm down and think like that? _Matt asked himself. "Yeah.", he muttered. "Let's go."

They walked slowly down the hallway, looking at the now-illuminated pictures on the wall. Most were violent shots of executions, but there were a few paintings of various animals. A particularly creepy one depicting a hedgehog made Matt shiver. _Is someone watching us through the paintings?_,he thought. _No, wait. You've seen too many old movies. That happens in Roger Rabbit, not real life. And Roger Rabbit? What makes you think of THAT movie?_

Matt walked straight into a stationary Mean. She stumbled forward a step, then backed up behind Matt. Slowly, he looked up, and fought an insane urge to put the chair leg in his eye.

Another creature stood before them. Pasty skin was wrapped over oddly shaped bones. Sharp spikes stuck out of its chest, back, and hands. It had no visible lip, just dried gums leading to blackened shark-like teeth. Skin grew straight over where the eyes should have been, as if whoever played God and made this creature was too disgusted with the result to grant this thing vision.

It growled.

Matt fell to his knees and spat up blood.

It growled again, raised two hands of filthy claws, and jumped.


	9. The Next Direction

Before I start… AnimeSola, your reviews are why I still write this. I LOVE YOU!…Yes. I'm done. Don't worry.

-----

Shaking hands grabbed Matt's neck from behind and heaved him backwards. Still, two claws dug into his right cheek, causing him to cry out. Blood spurted out through two long gashes, not affected by Matt's feeble attempt to stop it with his hands. Stunned, Matt watched the creature lick its bloodied claws as a screaming Mean pulled him backwards.

_You never realize how very much it hurts to be slashed on the face by a big freaking literal hell-demon until you experience it for yourself,_ Matt thought as he clasped his face, turned around, and ran at Mean's heels. Yet another growl sounded from behind them, driving them to flee faster.

From behind them, a rhythmic tapping sound started. Matt looked over his shoulder, and saw the thing scampering towards them on all fours, looking vaguely reptilian. As he turned back and ran faster, he had a vivid mental image of the thing's face burned into the back of his eyes, shiny string of drool and all.

Mean ran to the door of the bookcase room, and screamed. A second behind her, Matt saw that the doorway was now blocked by what looked like one of the shelves in the room. _Keep going; don't stop_, Matt thought as he grabbed Mean's arm, hauling her away from the blocked door. She started to cry as Matt pulled her away. _Stop it, _Matt tried to say, but panic had frozen his mouth. They stumbled forwards, and rounded another corner. Matt felt tears running down his face. He raised a hand to wipe them away, and noticed that it was actually blood pouring out of the two cuts.

A painting fell from behind them. They both looked back to see the thing scampering over it, nails leaving deep marks in the canvas. Mean screamed while Matt dug his nails deep into the chair leg still grasped in his sweaty hand. The thing opened its mouth, flashing a rather moldy-looking tongue.

Matt stopped. His bare feet skidded painfully on the rough carpet, and his hand probably wouldn't be able to let the piece of wood go for days. The creature hissed yet again, and lunged for Matt's neck. Practically screeching, he swung the chair leg in a wide arch. Wood connected with skull (hopefully), knocking the thing into the wall. Distantly, Matt heard Mean stop, but he was just standing there motionlessly, a dull ache in his hand. The creature started to push itself up, and Matt vaguely thought to hit it again. A bit of blood entered his mouth, and he tasted the copper. Bringing up a couple fingers to the cuts, he noted that they weren't clotting. _Aren't they supposed to?_ Matt thought. _Should I feel dizzy? Or should I beat the little scamp's head out? Or should I taste some more blood, or-_

Mean interrupted his thoughts by whacking the creature's head. Blood splashed onto their ankles, and Matt stepped back against the far wall. _Is it like getting AIDS? _Matt thought, then hurriedly reached down and wiped the dark red blood off his bare legs. He only succeeded in smearing it, and shivered. The blood was cold, and thick- wasn't that only what the blood from corpses was like?

"Mean," he whispered. She didn't hear. Tears streamed down her face as she continually hit at a big dent in the thing's battered skull. Matt shook his head quickly. "It was dead." He said, louder this time.

The chair leg snapped with a loud snap. Mean dropped the end, and knelt down next to the corpse. Tears left watermarks on the light blue carpet, but were rapidly being covered by a growing puddle of blood. Matt grabbed her arm and harshly pulled her away from the body. She stumbled a few steps, then collapsed at his feet.

"I…I can't do this, ok?" Mean stammered in between fits of crying. "Everyone's dead! Nobody cares if we give up, so let's just let go. It's not like-"

With one fluid motion, Matt dropped her arm, turned around, and started to walk away. Mean was crying again, but Matt ignored her. _She's given up already?_, he thought, with a little surprise. _Well, that…that sucks. Too bad, really. It'll be cold._ _Ice and fire, wind and earth…_

Matt stopped walking. Craziness was not allowed in his mind today. He mentally tried to relax, clear his mind, and just deal. Misinterpreting his halting for something to do with her, Mean crawled towards him, and put a hand on his foot. "Please…" she moaned.

Like snapping out of a dream, Matt reentered the moment. "Get up," he said hoarsely. "And let's roll." She practically jumped up, wiping a few last tears away from her eyes as she did so. Turning around again, they both walked away from the thing's body.

-----

The hall was horseshoe-shaped, Matt soon found. The door at the end of one side was like the one with the fire design, except it showed a circle with two parallel lines crossing the middle. Matt glanced back at Mean, but she was off in her own little world. Sighing, and preparing for the worst, he reached for the handle.

It growled.

As one, Matt and Mean turned around. The thing limped towards them, blood trickling from the large dent in its head. "How the fuck did…" Mean muttered. Matt noticed that they both had dropped their chair legs. Edging backwards, he placed one hand on the doorknob as he watched it draw near.

Seemingly not knowing about the crater in its head, the thing growled again and pounced, claws extended. Matt flicked the handle, and opened the door by pushing Mean through. He whirled around the heavy wood, and slammed on the creature. With a loud thunk, the claws dug into the door, and were quickly withdrawn. Matt noted the lights go out through eight or so little holes, just as the new room was illuminated.

They were in a bedroom. The walls were a vibrant orange, with swirls of red randomly spaced. The bed had a deep cherry wooden frame, with matching comforter and pillows. A dresser sat in the corner, and a desk sat next to it.

"Damn." Matt said, still shaking thanks to the re-walking dead back there. "We're trapped, aren't we?" Mean just shivered, and looked like she was going to cry again. _She'll be fine, _Matt told himself. He stepped over to the desk and opened the drawers. Pens, paper, envelopes- all the exciting stuff. Mean just lay down on the bed.

Matt stepped over to the dresser. Each drawer was empty, save for a sheet of orange liner paper. _Oh, for crying out loud! _Matt thought angrily. _It's a DRESSER, people! Clothes! For cold people! Ok, for me, more specifically!_ Pissed off now, he slammed the last drawer shut and flopped down on the bed, next to Mean.

"…See anything?" she asked faintly.

Matt didn't answer. They lay in silence for a moment, until Matt muttered, "We're going to die soon, right?"

Although he didn't see her, Matt knew that Mean smiled. "Hence my breakdown." She snapped.

Matt rolled off the bed. He wandered around the room aimlessly, then began telling himself to search for another way out. _There's not going to be a secret passage, you know,_ Matt thought. _Oh, great. Quit thinking before you go insane. Cause that's bad. Like-_

"What's the plan?" Mean asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Matt looked over at her as she sat up. "Well, since I've done so great at trapping us in a fucking bedroom, you can be our tactician for a while. Give it a whirl, girl. You'll like it."

On her feet now, Mean stared at Matt, mouth hanging open. "Are you insane or just cranky?" she asked.

He turned away. "Insane, cranky, tired, incurably depressed- it's all the same."

With a small smile, Mean said, "Well, you get slack. Here's the plan." She paused. "Don't think about anything that happened tonight. Run." She ran to the door, flung it open, and bolted into the hallway.

"And I'm insane," he muttered angrily, as he ran after her. Lights quickly switched from the bedroom back to the hallway. The creature had left a slick trail of blood in its path, forcing Matt to run along the side of the hallway. Mean turned the corner, then went into the bookcase room. _It's open now?_ Matt thought confusedly.

He almost collided with Mean for the third time in twenty minutes. "Stop it," he said bitterly. She just pointed to the left. Matt looked, and saw that all the bookcases were gone, along with the table. A lectern sat facing the wall. On it was a single white piece of paper and a golden key. Matt picked up the paper, and read the words within the elegant border.

_I know you want out. You're strong, both of you, but you're not quite good enough. It'll take more than blind luck and adrenaline to make it out of Raccoon alive and well. But seeing as I've no other alternative, you'll have to do._

_This key opens a door into the main asylum. Go back into the bedroom, and sleep on it. You'll find a way._

_Two will join your number soon. Be wary; they're weaker than you. What will be entrusted to you is more important than human life._

_Be wary at all times, in all places. Nothing is ever as bright as it seems, Maria._

_Remember, there's a way out of every problem. No consequences will befall you unless you let them, Matt._

Wordlessly, Matt handed the sheet back to Mean. Grabbing the key, he made for the door, Mean following him and reading at the same time. The cold metal felt good in his hands. He lifted the key up, and looked at it. A polished red stone was embedded into the handle. Matt shivered as he ran his finger across it.

Matt opened the bedroom door, walked in, and shut it after Mean. The lights transferred back to the bedroom again. He turned to her, and said, "Maria?"

"Well…come on…my legal name's not Mean, y'know…" she stumbled.

"I like it." Matt said quickly. Taking the paper and glancing at it once more, he said, "What…what does this mean?" He waved the paper around for effect.

"Key." Mean said simply. Frowning, Matt handed it over. She stood onto the bed, and put it into a hidden hole in the ceiling. "Writer guy's too obvious…sleep on it, I was lying here for ten minutes…" she grunted. Awkwardly, she twisted the key. The bed began to shake. Mean reached a hand out towards Matt. He took it, and stepped onto the bed, which started to descend slowly.

"Whoa…is this such a hot idea?" Matt asked. "Y'know, not complaining, the writer guy must have killed that thing back there and stuff, but still. Going underground when…when…y'know, the whole living dead experience." He trailed off after a minute.

Mean smiled weakly. "Well, you said I could be the tactician. And hey, trust my tact, will ya?"

Vaguely smiling, Matt sat down just as the top of the mattress reached floor level. "Alright, faith in tact. Anyways… why is this moving so slowly?"

Mean flopped down onto the pillows. "Can't say," she said quietly. _Great,_ Matt thought. _Another mood swing. Man, one second she's practically peppy, and now she's all…drepressy. _

He tried to relax, but it was hard to stay still when the last of the light above was slowly becoming farther and farther out of reach. As if his thoughts had drawn a cue, they soundlessly turned off. _Can't say I love this, _Matt thought. Stretching out, he forced himself to rest for a moment. Thoughts he had pushed away during his encounters with Adam, the creature, and, y'know, the reanimated corpses all rushed back into his mind. His arm started to throb with pain again, making Matt wince. _How long has it been? Will it be morning soon?_ he asked himself.

Seconds later, the bed stopped with a loud screeching noise. The wall next to Mean opened up a bit, but stopped without notice. A thin bar of light streamed into the tunnel. "Um…shouldn't that open more?" Matt asked quietly. He crawled over to the crack, and tried to pull the doors open. A second later, Mean joined him. They pulled one door back a bit, enough to squeeze through.

"Lobby," Matt muttered. "You or me?" he asked.

Mean shook her head. "You go. I'm…claustrophobic. I can't…"

Frowning, Matt stuck his head through the door. Turning sideways, he managed to get his chest out. Pushing down on the doors with his hands, he pulled his legs out and fell to the floor. Glancing around the room, he saw that he was in a lobby similar to the one somewhere above them in the hospital.

"Your turn," he said to Mean. She put a shaking hand out towards him, then screamed and leapt back. Matt whirled around to see a majorly pissed off Adam running towards him, claws pointingat his head.


End file.
